Saturday, September 7, 2013

Our last days of waiting


I remember the night before I would be induced with our first son, our first child.  I had prepared as much as I could, but yet, I lay there wondering, if I could have done more.  I knew life was about to change in many ways, but I could not image the truth of it.  I was about to walk into something I had not experienced, but soon would become my reality.
We wait here in Haiti.  Everything has been done.  We just wait for them to give us our Visa on Monday.  Then we go home.  I find myself in a similar place as the night before my first son was born. Gosh, we have prayed and longed for this day, but I did not foresee these last few days of waiting as it has been.  How has it been?
Over the past 3 years, I have acclimated to the waiting, to the disappointments, to the bonding trips, the good-byes even.  It has become my normal life.  Though it has been hard every day to swallow, I would hope for the end, but lost sight to its reality.
As I wait over the next few days, my reality of what is to come is heard, but not yet experienced.  It is a tricky place to be and hard to contain as a human.
I am the person in a race waiting, both at the start line but also the finish line.  I have run a race that has taken more than I thought I had to give and I am exhausted at its end.  Everyone cheers, and I am trying not to collapse.
But then, I find out, that the race I just ran was only the training for what is to come.  These last few days have been a transition to rest and cope with this reality that is to come.  I am at the line waiting for the gun to go off and the next race to begin.  My mind knows it is coming, my body has been prepped for endurance, my feet are fit with the shoes to run as much as the race demands, but my heart pounds in this unknown that I wait for and I am afraid and excited all in one.
I guess everyone has a tension like this in their life at some point.  I am thankful for those who go before us in these races who can help us and encourage us forward.  I am thankful I am not alone, even if in this waiting moment if feels that way.
I am reminded of our Lord who has brought us here, who will move us forward.



Our first trip to Haiti,  I looked out over this land from a mountain on top of the city of Port Au Prince.    I remember thinking, this will become a part of my story, my life and I was starting the race of adopting our son.  In the house we stayed at there was a sign in French and it said, "God did this for us".  And now I can say, Indeed He has and God will do this for us ahead.  Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not yet seen.  (Heb. 11:1)  So I will hold fast to the confession of my hope without wavering for He who promised is faithful. (Heb.  10:23)  Thank you for all who continue to pray us through these last few days of waiting and into the next race in our story.